


I Dreamt a Dream Tonight

by Dresupi



Series: Shieldshock Fics [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes is Darcy Lewis' Grandfather, Everybody Ships It, F/M, Fluff, Grinding, Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Spooky, Trapped, Weird Stuff is Going On, it was all a dream, or was it?, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6776113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her friends are acting strange, she's stuck in a mansion with a really hot super soldier, and some REALLY WEIRD stuff is going on.  </p><p>Darcy isn't really sure how she ended up here, and she doesn't know how she's going to get out, but she is absolutely not going to fall for a certain superhero in the process.  </p><p>Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Know You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McGregorsWench](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McGregorsWench/gifts).



> This is for McGregorsWench, who is one of my fic giveaway winners. She gave me a lovely Shieldshock prompt that I really ran with! I hope you like it, Dear!
> 
> Special thanks to [leftennant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant) for helping me flesh out this idea!

_"There has to be a way to get them open..."  Steve grunted and pulled the crow bar back only to wind up flat on his butt again._

_Darcy snorted to stifle a giggle, but he still noticed._

_"Find this funny, do you?" he asked, looking serious enough that she started to worry he was upset with her, and then his facade cracked and he fell back on the floor laughing.  It was a great sound._

_Guffawing on the floor was a good look for him._

_All things considered, she could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than stuck in Tony's Dad's old mansion with Captain America._

_Even though, the events leading up to their present stuck-ness were a little fuzzy..._

_The last thing she remembered clearly was getting ready for bed the previous night._

* * *

 

Darcy pulled on her pajama pants and padded softly to the bathroom to brush her teeth. 

Her stomach was full of butterflies, because of the party.  The party for Tony.  The party especially designed for Tony.  Tony's party.  That party. 

Not that parties normally tripped her up this much.  Hell to the no way.  She'd been quite the party animal in college.  Beer pong champ of her sorority. 

No.  Not the party.

And not Tony.  She and Tony were pretty cool.  As long as he slept at least sometimes, she kept his mini-fridge well stocked with those green smoothies he liked to drink, and relations were borderline pleasant. 

No.  It was one of the guests in particular. 

A certain serum-enhanced super soldier of the patriotic variety. 

Steven Grant Rogers.  War hero.  Super hero.  Absolute babe. 

She didn't usually get that way around guys, but boy.  Did he ever reduce her to a blushing giggle factory working overtime on a rush order of the high-pitched range. 

She simply could not keep her cool around him. 

It wasn't like she'd CHOSEN to crush so hard on old Steve-O. 

No, in fact, she'd been pretty dead set against ANY kind of relations with him.  Simply given her...rather unfortunate ancestry. 

Being the Winter Soldier's granddaughter was something that was kept under major wraps.  Both by SHIELD and by her family.  First of all, it was crazy weird that there was a master assassin walking around that she could by all rights call "Gramps", even if he didn't look older than thirty.  And second of all, he was kind of the world's most wanted man right now and no one in their right mind would want to be connected to that. 

She didn't want to have to tell Steve that she was his long-lost best buddy's granddaughter.  Even IF a miracle happened and she was able to hang out with or even (GASP) be FRIENDS with Steve, it would all get wiped when he found out who her grandfather was.  Because, hello?  It was hella weird. 

Nobody in their right mind would want to chill with their BFF's grandchild. 

Nobody. 

She finished up her bathroom routine and climbed into her nice cozy bed.  She watched the Tonight Show and fell asleep with the T.V on.  Which was strange for her because the light from the screen usually kept her awake. Maybe she was just extra tired from being abnormally nervous. 

She turned it off when she woke up the next morning, feeling fuzzy and weird.  Almost hungover, but a little different.  No headache.  Just that...groggy, fluffy feeling you get from waking up when you've barely slept. 

Which was totally weird.  Because she went to bed before midnight and slept in until almost ten. 

Maybe there WAS such a thing as too much sleep. 

Coffee didn't help the feeling, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before it was time to get ready for Tony's party. 

It seemed like everyone was kind of...off today. 

What with the constant barrage of texts she received from Natasha asking if she was ready… Natasha NEVER texted her.  Let alone bugged her about getting to a party on time. 

Natasha was the physical embodiment of "The party don't start till I walk in..." and she encouraged Darcy to adopt the same mantra. 

It was difficult, though.  Because she was the Black Widow.  And Darcy was...well...Darcy.  The party could start, happen and stop without her there.  She literally made no difference in the quality of the party.  At least, that's how she saw it.  She hung out with the Avengers on a daily basis.  Sure, amongst normal people, she was pretty baller.  But a positive attitude could only do so much for actual rep.  Especially in the company of honest to Blob SUPERHEROS. 

But for whatever weird reason, Darcy found herself the willing beneficiary of a Natasha Romanov makeover.  Which included a VERY cute red dress, matching pumps and a quick tutorial on smoky eye. 

And Darcy looked HOT.  A little bit slutty, but mostly not. 

"Huh..." she eyed herself in the mirror.  "I look damn good..." 

Natasha shrugged.  "You clean up pretty nice, Darcy-Lou." 

"Darcy-Lou?" she made a face.  What the hell was up with everyone today?  "Do me a favor, Tash.  Never EVER call me that again." 

"Whatever you say, Darce." 

Darcy was starting to wonder if she wasn’t actually hungover.  Maybe this was all some weird drunk dream or something. 

 _Except you can’t feel pain in dreams, right?_ Darcy thought to herself as she winced her way down to the car.  The shoes were pinching the hell out of her toes. 

The party was at Stark Mansion.  Which...was kind of a weird locale, given that it had been Tony's Dad's place and Tony NEVER even mentioned it other than to the accounting department.  Because maids and groundskeepers liked to get paid, apparently. 

She carpooled with Natasha, who walked as far as the front stoop with her before having to run back to the car to retrieve a forgotten purse. 

Darcy was thoroughly confused by the time she knocked on the door. 

It opened, seemingly on its own and she walked into the entryway. 

The door slammed shut behind her, like it was on a timer or something.  The bang reverberated throughout the halls and she felt somewhat trapped.  Which was silly.  It was Tony's house.  She could leave whenever she wanted.  Right? 

To test her theory and possibly reassure herself, she turned and tugged on the door. 

Which didn't budge. 

Of course it didn’t.

"What the..."  she frowned and yanked harder. 

Footsteps echoed behind her.  "How did you get in?" 

She turned at the familiar voice, her stomach fluttering when her worst fears were actualized. 

Steve.

She was locked in a huge mansion with Steve.  She hoped and prayed to Blob above that there was someone else here.  Someone besides them.  Hell, LOKI would be a welcome face right about now. 

And that was saying something.  Because Loki was not on her list of favorite people.  Loki was one of those people…alien…Asgardians…who knew BOTH of her unfortunate secrets. He knew about good old Grandpa Murder Face AND how hard she was crushing on Captain Tightpants here. 

On second thought, maybe it was a good thing Loki wasn’t here.   _Anybody but Loki, please Blob?_

"Through the door.  That...is apparently determined to make a liar out of me..."  She yanked again.  "Natasha dropped me off..." she abandoned the doorknob and started banging on the door.  "TASH!  TASH!" 

"It's no use.  I don't think they can hear us out there,” Steve sighed, yanking once more on the door handle. 

"Who?" 

"Everyone...I came with Clint and Tony...unlocked the door and then..." 

"Yeah, I didn't see anyone else outside..." Darcy assured him.  "Natasha had to run back to the car to get her purse so I just came on in.  Door opened really easily for me."

"Yeah, same here.  I've been trying to find another way out, but I keep...getting lost..." he gestured around the halls.  "I'm not on my A-Game, though...I feel...strange..." 

"Hungover?" Darcy suggested.  "But without the headache? Just…going out on a limb." 

"Yeah...yeah..." he nodded.  "I mean...I haven't been hungover before, but...it's how I imagine it'd be..." 

He was the first person that day to make ANY sense, and even though Darcy had her rules about getting close to a certain Star Spangled Piece of Hiney, she was inclined to bend her rules.  At least until they got out of here.

"Okay. So this is a Stark-Made mansion...or at least...Stark-Designed.  There has to be some kind of an override for whatever the hell security system we've triggered. 

"There's something else too..." he began.  "Follow me..."

She did.  Honestly, she'd follow his nicely sculpted, khaki-encased hindquarters anywhere.  But she totally wasn't checking him out.  Nope.  Not checking him out in a time of crisis. 

But when he showed her the "something else", she kind of forgot about Cap Booty for a second.  Just a quick second.  Like.  Okay, she didn't forget about its existence, it was still there in the corner of her mind.  Like, she was a devoted booty connoisseur, so it wasn't like she completely forgot about it. 

But.  Yeah.  The "something else". 

Or rather, lack of something.  Outside the windows.  There was nothing.  No light, no forms in the dark, no nothing.  Just...black abyss. 

"What the actual hell?" she murmured, walking closer to the windows and rattling the handles.  She flipped the lock and tried to open it.  Flipped it back and tried again. 

"They won't budge...just like the door..." he informed her.  "And...I'm not sure what I'd do if they did..." 

She had to agree with him.  It was pitch black outside.  Like the black you'd get from a room with no light when your eyes were closed.   If she peered long enough, she started to see a flickering light.  But...she wasn't sure if that was just a trick her mind was pulling on her or if it was really there. 

"I was going to start looking for something to pry them open when I heard you come in..." 

"I'll help you look..." she whispered, her mind filling with dread and so many questions. 

What had happened? What was going on?  Where were Natasha and Tony and Clint? 

"I figure this used to be Tony's house, so there's bound to be a workshop around here somewhere…" he reasoned aloud. 

She looked up at Steve for the first time since they'd gotten trapped here. Steve, with his strong jaw and broad shoulders and yes...badonkadonk booty.  Captain Freaking America, who punched Hitler and took on Red Skull and Hydra.  He was looking...scared.  And if he was looking scared, well...

Darcy's mother duck senses kicked in.  If he was scared, she was going to have to get him unscared. 

"Let's go take a stroll, then..." she turned on her heel, her very high, very red heel and marched to the door. 

"Wait.  Darcy..." Steve's hand closed around hers and she inhaled sharply.  "I think we should stay together.  It's a big house and we don't know what...if...." 

She nodded, "Yeah.  yeah.  Stick together.  Good plan." 

"Good plan..." he echoed. 

"So.  Um.  Just wondering.  Probably a pie in the sky dream, but have you tried breaking the windows?" 

He nodded grimly.  "Yes.  I didn't expect to be able to break them, though.  I assumed they'd be bullet proof." 

A thirty-minute stroll through the halls turned up a tool box in a storage closet that included a crow bar.  There also was a fully stocked kitchen, not surprising for a party, and a shit ton of linen closets, full of pillows and blankets.    

Steve helped them backtrack to the living room and set to work trying to pry the window open with the crow bar. 

Which, led them up to here.  With Steve laughing on the floor and Darcy feeling more and more comfortable with him by the minute.  He really did have a nice laugh.  And he'd rolled up the sleeves on his button-up which…Hello, Captain.  Very yummy. 

After a few minutes of watching him with that window, Darcy got up and rattled one of the others, gasping in surprise when it fell open.  "Steve?" 

He dropped the crow bar with a clatter and immediately inserted himself between the open window and her.  Ready to protect her from whatever darkness monster he thought was going to come in through the window.  He peered out into the pitch black, squinting and blinking a lot.  "I can't see a thing...wonder why this one was open?" 

"Did you try all the windows before you just started hacking away at them with a crowbar?" 

He blushed, and bit his lip as he looked with great interest out into the darkness. 

She stifled a giggle and then reached out to grab his arm in spite of herself when he started climbing out the window. 

"And just where do you think you're going?" 

He looked into the dark abyss and back at her again like that answered it. 

"You are NOT leaving me alone in this creepy mansion." 

"I'll come back for you." 

"NO.  I've seen the way this movie ends.  With my guts strung out in the entryway.  NO FREAKING WAY.  I'm coming with you." 

He sighed.  "Fine.  Let me go out, make sure it's safe, and then you come out." 

She relented, letting go of his arm.  "Fine.  But I'm coming out in ten seconds, ready or not." 

He chuckled, shaking his head.  "Here goes nothing..." He hiked his leg up over the window sill and hoisted himself out.  "Just let me make sure--mph..." And he was gone.  She couldn't hear anything.  Couldn't hear him breathing, couldn't hear him talking.  Couldn't hear anything except ear ringing silence. 

"Steve?"

Silence.  Fuzzy, weird silence.  That was punctured by a crash coming from the entry way. 

"Screw this...I wasn’t dying for six college credits, DEFINITELY not dying for the ten second rule either..." 

She hiked her leg up and over the sill, regretting her heels once again as she climbed out onto the patio.  She was surrounded by darkness on all sides save for the open window behind her.  She took a tentative step forward and yelped as the ground gave way and she was falling. 

Falling, falling to her probable death. 

She landed with an "oomph" on top of something solid that also went "oomph." 

"Darcy?" Steve groaned, moving beneath her. 

She opened her eyes to see Steve's face directly in front of hers, blue eyes searching hers.  She fumbled to roll off him, onto the carpeted floor of the entryway, which was where they were. 

"I thought you were going to wait..."

"I heard something in here and got scared..." she confessed. 

"That was me.  Sorry." 

"So like...it's a wormhole or something?" 

He shrugged.  "You're the one who works in the lab.  Don't ask me." 

"Dude.  I'm a Poly Sci major turned lab assistant turned personal assistant.  What I don't know about wormholes could fill this house, I'm sure." 

He smirked, rolling over and standing.  He offered a hand to her to help her up.  "We need to find some pillows." 

"What for?" she asked, following him into the hallway. 

"Cushioning.  We're going to conduct an experiment." 

* * *

 

 ** _FLOP._**  

She fell on the pillow mat in what felt like a graceless plop.  She rolled to the side so Steve wouldn't hit her when he fell as well. 

He landed with a soft thud, laying back on the pillows and sighing. 

"No matter which way we walk..." 

"We end up back here." 

"So we can't leave." 

"Can't leave..." she echoed. 

"Stuck here." 

"Stuck." 

    


	2. I Walked With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which...more weird stuff happens, along with a revelation and talking and...yes. YES. Kissy face. 
> 
> I repeat folks. WE HAVE KISSY FACE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great BIG thanks to leftennant for reading over this for me before I posted. 
> 
> Super nervous because of the AMAZING response I got from the first chapter. Seriously, you guys. I was reeling from the response. Gosh. I am not deserving. 
> 
> Special shoutout to McGregorsWench who has been waiting patiently for me to finish this for her. One more chapter. Hopefully this week or next at the latest. With some possible, dare I say...SEXYTIMES? Look for a rating increase next week, that's all I'm sayin'. ;)

Darcy let out a puff of air.  "How long have we been here?" 

She was lying on her back on the floor, shoes abandoned sometime before they started jumping through the wormhole outside. 

The sexy red dress that Natasha had let her borrow was quickly becoming more of a nuisance than anything else. She was constantly tugging it down over her thighs so as not to scandalize America's favorite super soldier.  Not that she thought he was a blushing virgin or anything.  She actually tried not to think very much at all about Steve’s sex life. 

She didn’t succeed, but she tried.    

She heard Steve sigh from across the room, where he was laying in pretty much the same position.  "I have no idea; my watch isn't working." 

She didn’t actually WEAR a watch, but her phone had ceased to do anything but become a very expensive paper weight from the minute she’d entered the mansion.  Something to take up space in her purse.  Something that she missed very greatly, because it was difficult to pretend she wasn’t lusting after Steve when she had nothing to occupy her time.  She’d briefly entertained the notion of reading one of the many books on the shelves, but as it turned out, they all had blank pages.  Just something to occupy the shelves. 

Which was weird.  Right?  Tony didn’t seem the type to not have any books.  To not have QUALITY books, sure.  But NO BOOKS?  That was strange. 

They'd explored the entire downstairs, deciding to put off the upstairs until after a rest and a regroup.  Darcy was starting to get a little panicky and Steve didn't want to leave her alone in the living room.

She didn’t want to admit she was getting panicky, but it was difficult not to when every twist, every turn in the hall ended them up back in the entry hall.  She’d tried to keep track of each turn they made, but something muddled up her sense of direction and they always ended up in the same place. 

"I got here around six or so and now it's pitch black outside..." Darcy mused.  "So we've obviously been here for a few hours…OR a few days.”    

Steve chuckled, "Well, my stomach isn't rumbling, so I don't think it's been days." 

"Speak for yourself, PLEASE.  I could eat...well...YOU...if this comes down to an ‘Alive’-type situation." 

He laughed again and it went quiet for a few moments, making Darcy think that she might have made him uncomfortable.  She'd been...doing that a lot, or she felt like she was.  She’d say something, laugh nervously, and then they be back to counting ceiling tiles until one of them changed the subject. 

He seemed to be taking it fairly well.  This whole...being trapped in a mansion with weird supernatural business going on with a girl who literally just said she wanted to eat him. 

"I wonder if Tony has any fava beans and a nice ciante?" he pondered aloud. 

Darcy laughed.  "Silence of the Lambs.  A classic." 

"Eh.  There were some high points.  Not really my cup of tea, though." 

"Too gory?"

"Nah, that was all fine.  Too...I dunno...I don't like watching depraved individuals...puts me in a bad place." 

"Oh..." she trailed off, not really sure what to say to that. 

"I mean, you know...I guess I try to see the good in everyone.  It makes it difficult when a character has no good in them." 

"Well...Hannibal liked Clarice, didn't he?  He wanted to help her.  Psychiatrist and all.  He didn't try to eat her. So that's something." 

"Yeah...it’s something." 

She bit her lip to stop herself from talking again.  She had already almost embarrassed herself too many times to count. 

_Seven times.  SEVEN._

Maybe not too many to count.  But still, a lot of times. 

She'd at least managed to not mention her crush on him (in so many words...she'd mentioned it in a roundabout way enough times that she might as well have been hitting him over the head with Mew Mew), OR her relation to Bucky Barnes.  So, maybe she wasn’t in the same league as Fort Knox, but she was a few steps up from Ashley Madison.

"Are you hungry, though?  If you're hungry, we can go scrounge up something in the kitchen." 

He used the term "scrounge" ironically, since the kitchen was stuffed to the brim with cheese and cut fruit and caviar and expensive crackers.   Nothing really substantial, but nothing she'd turn her nose up at either.  She once again cursed the fact that they hadn't been locked in here with the caterers.  Bacon-wrapped shrimp sounded really good right now.

"I could eat," she said simply.   

His hand appeared in her line of vision before she could manage to force herself up off the floor.  She took it, allowing him to lift her to her feet easily.  So easily it almost took her breath away and she stumbled forward.  Into his arms. 

His strong, muscular arms. 

His strong, muscular arms that had her mouth running dry and her motor skills on vacation.  Seriously, her motor skills had sent a postcard: "On vacay in Barbados, wish you were here!" 

Her hands squeezed his shoulders and his breath caught, snapping her out of it and scrambling backwards, her legs hitting the sofa behind her and buckling.  She sat down hard on the cushion, bouncing a little before she jumped up and straightened her skirt, making her way out of the living room and into the kitchen. 

He followed her.  "Darcy...I feel like we need to talk about the elephant in the room..." 

Her head was in the fridge, which felt safe, being in here amongst all the cheese plates.  She was eyeing a plate of brie. It was no bacon-wrapped shrimp, but it was definitely better than talking about metaphorical elephants.  Or literal elephants, if she was being absolutely honest.  "Somehow, I don't think you mean the ceramic elephant in the entryway..." she quipped at the cheese.    

Talking to cheese was so much easier than talking to the object of her desires.  Even though that cheese was another object of a different desire.   Well, technically, the bacon-wrapped SHRIMP were the objects of her desire, but they weren’t here.  Bastards.  She swore to Blob above that she was going to track them down when/if they ever got out of here. 

His hand appeared on the fridge door above hers, the heat from his body especially noticeable in contrast to the cool air in the fridge. 

_I don’t know if I’m hungry or horny or both.  I kind of want to nibble on those fingers, though._

He didn't say anything and she quickly straightened, stepping away from him and crossing the floor, taking a seat on one of the stools on the other side of the room.  A safe distance away from his warmth and his arms and oh Blob...she hadn't noticed that he'd gotten rid of the dress shirt.  His rippling upper body pressed against the thin white cotton t-shirt in ways that should have honestly been illegal. 

His eyes were on hers.  She blushed at the attention, realizing that she needed to nip this in the bud.  And quick. 

"Steve...I don't think now is the time to..."

"Darcy...you must know how I feel about you...I feel like I've been kind of...obvious, even though I try not to be..." 

Her heartbeat was probably audible. The thudding in her chest was all she could feel right then as he talked. 

"I know you probably don't feel the same way...and so I've kept my distance...but being here, close to you...I feel like...I feel like you should know." 

He looked so earnest.  It was heartwarming and wonderful and everything she had ever wanted. 

"Steve..." she whispered, folding her arms across her front.  "Steve...that's...that's really great to hear, actually..." 

He chuckled, folding his arms too, mirroring her position.  "I'm sure it is...always nice to hear that someone finds you attractive...not that...you have to reciprocate or anything like that, Darcy...I just...I felt like it was muddling some things and I didn't want it to...you know...make things uncomfortable...i really hope I haven't made you feel uncomfortable..."

"No, no...not at all...I just...I just...I need to confess something too." 

He nodded grimly, obviously preparing for the worst and he didn't even know how bad it could be.

“I can’t…I can’t reciprocate…the really REALLY wonderful feelings…” 

His face fell and she tried to hurry through the rest of her confession as best as she could. 

“I mean, I want to…Steve…I really want to…but…” 

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better, Darcy…”   

"Steve.  I'm...I'm Bucky Barnes' granddaughter." 

He frowned briefly before his eyebrows raised.

It was mind-boggling and difficult to believe.  She knew that all too well.  She sighed, "It's possible...believe me.  It's possible.  And it's real.  And it's my life."   

And the next few minutes…the next few minutes were completely surreal.  Because…instead of recoiling in disgust, instead of backing away from her and going back to their weird relationship of awkward silences and furtive glances, he chuckled softly, smiling and shaking his head. 

“I’m not kidding, Steve.  It’s for real…I have all the paper work to prove—“ 

“Darcy…I already know…” he said softly, looking up at her apprehensively.  “Bucky’s…his…descendants are well documented and are on a strict need to know basis…” 

She blinked.  “Who else “needs to know”?” 

“Natasha.  But only because she’s the one who got the intel for me.” 

Darcy took a deep breath.  “So you know…and you still…you still…” 

He nodded.  “I…uh…I can’t deny it’s…really…really…” 

“Really messed up?” 

He took a step towards her.  “Yes.” 

She snorted out a laugh in surprise, honestly not expecting that answer from him.

“It really is…but…my entire life…has been kind of…messed up too. I was born in 1918.  I’m technically 98 years old…give or take about 70 years…”

She smiled, “Captain Steve Rogers, Patron Saint of Plot Twists.” 

He smiled crookedly, his eyes were warm and inviting. Like a hot pool of water just begging to be soaked in.  “Something like that…care to accompany me for another one?”

 _Captain Steve Rogers, Patron Saint of SMOOTH._   

She inhaled sharply, realizing that she needed to answer him.  Nod her head.  Something. 

“You…uh…really don’t care about the whole…”Grandpa Bucky” thing?” 

He chuckled, “If you don’t, I don’t.” 

Her pulse quickened.  “I don’t care.” 

His smile was kind of a pleasant sight.  Not kind of.  It was darn pleasant.  It was more pleasant than a platter of bacon wrapped shrimp with her name on it. 

“Oh good.  That’s good.  That’s…that’s…”  he was closing the distance between them, “That’s really, really...Darcy?” 

“Hmm?”  He was so close now, his arms around her waist.  His face really close.  She wanted to memorize how he looked right now.  Because this…this was the stuff of dreams. 

Of lovely, lovely dreams that never EVER happened for her. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

She nodded.  “Plot twist me up, Captain.” 

His arms tightened around her waist, one hand sliding up her back to cup the back of her head as his lips pressed against hers, pressed hard before moving slightly, lips parting as he practically held her up, kept her from falling because holy hell.  Holy Blob.  She was swooning.  That was a thing and she was doing it. 

He broke off the kiss, hesitating before leaning back, still supporting her in his arms.  “Darcy?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mmhmm…” she hummed as her eyes fluttered open.  “Just a very…very good kiss.  Excellent plot twist, Steve.  Superb.  Ten out of ten, would recommend.” 

He laughed, pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose.  “Let’s get some food in you before we do that again…” 

He turned towards the fridge and froze when they both heard a loud crash upstairs. 

They looked at each other for a few seconds before he sprung into action. 

“Stay here…”

“No FREAKING way…” 

“Darcy…” 

“Steve.” 

“Darcy.” 

“STEVE.” 

He sighed, setting his jaw.  “I go in ahead of you…and at the first sign of trouble, you should—“ 

“Run back down here and hop in the wormhole.  Got it. Slide into the entryway. Or, I could” 

“Darcy.” 

“I’ll run.” 

“And _hide_.” 

She nodded, “Yes.  And hide.” 

She followed him up the stairs, half expecting to fall back into the entryway with every step.  They didn’t, though. 

They made it up to the top of the stairs, and Steve stopped, checking all around them as he tried to figure out what direction the noise had come from.  He turned to the left, bringing them to a corridor of doors. 

“Oh…I’ve seen this movie.  We’re gonna turn away for a second and there will be a creepy pair of twins at the end of the hall and a dead lady in a bath tub.” 

Steve glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Sorry.  SPOILERS.” 

Steve didn’t reply, simply started trying all the doors.  All of them were locked.  Except one. 

He threw the door open, walking inside with Darcy in close pursuit.  Like hell she was staying in the creepy Shining hallway. 

There was nothing in the room. Nothing on the floor.  The walls were covered in framed photographs.  On every wall except for the one with a stone fire place.  Unlit.  With a TV inside it.  Not…built in as one might expect in a Stark Mansion.  But…actually just…jammed inside. 

An older model box television with a flickering screen.  Flickering something that looked like maybe the Today show?  There were flashes of Rock Center and Matt Lauer.  Al Roker. 

Steve was examining some scratches on the floor.  “Looks like it was just…jammed back there…from here.” 

“How is it…FUNCTIONING?”  Darcy knelt down to look for a cord she could unplug.  There wasn’t one. 

“Don’t touch it…” he warned. 

“Wasn’t gonna…” she said, straightening and walking over to one wall.  To look at the photographs.  Lots of them looked older.  She recognized some of them.  Tony’s dad with Peggy Carter.  Tony’s Dad with Steve. 

Well, she kind of recognized them.  These were them…but with one minor detail changed…

“Steve?  Why does Tony have a billion pictures of Loki in his weird TV fireplace room?” 

Steve crossed the floor to look.  “I have…no idea…” 

It was indeed Loki in all these pictures. There was Loki as Howard Stark AND Peggy Carter. He looked surprisingly good in victory rolls. 

There was Loki as Tony at his college graduation.  Oh.  And Loki was also every other graduate AND the professor giving him the diploma.  AND all the people in attendance.

It would have been funny, if it wasn’t so bizarre.

It all felt like some kind of prank or practical joke…

She froze, her eyes taking in all the weird Loki pictures as her blood ran cold.      

Everything clicked together. Why everyone had been acting so strangely. Why she hadn’t hurt herself falling through the wormhole.  Why Steve had been so agreeable and lovely and kissy face. 

She set her jaw and back away from the wall.  The wall of laughing Loki faces.  The bastard.  Putting a billion of himself in here to ridicule her.   

“What?” Steve asked.  “What’s wrong?” 

She shook her head. “Nothing.  I just figured out what this is.” 

“What…what is?” 

“This…whole…thing…why we’re trapped here.”

“What?”

“It’s a big joke.  A prank.”    

“What?”

She narrowed her eyes.  “Stop saying ‘what’.” 

“Sorry…uh…hmmmm?”  Steve raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. 

“This…it’s…it’s Loki.” 

His eyes widened even more. “Loki’s trapped us here?  In this…” 

“Dream world.  And no.  He hasn’t trapped US here.  He’s trapped ME here.  This is a big stupid dream and…and…”  Tears burned in the corners of her eyes, and she knew it was just a dream and she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by crying in front of Dream Steve.  “And I honestly…didn’t know he was this…cruel.” 

“Darcy...” Steve reached for her, but she shied away, turning around and zeroing in on the TV that was flickering more and more clearly.  It WAS the Today show. 

She walked with purpose towards the set.  She didn’t want to watch the Today show.  She preferred Good Morning America. 

She reached for the knob and twisted it. 

“OH!” She sat straight up in bed, the sun streaming in through the windows of her bedroom.  The Today Show blaring on the T.V.  She fumbled for the remote on her nightstand and turned it off. 

There were tears still in her eyes.  Unshed, but still there. 

She didn’t know how Loki did it.  Or why.  Or anything. 

But all she knew was that she was ticked.  Hurt.  Sad.  And hungry as hell for bacon-wrapped shrimp.  Screw Loki. 

She was sliding her feet out over the edge of the bed when someone started pounding really hard on her door. 

She gave up looking for a robe and padded quickly out to the living room.  She opened the door a crack, surprised as hell to see Steve there.  Pajama-clad and barefoot, complete with bedhead. 

She was halfway through schooling her features, fixing a smile on her face, trying NOT to look like she’d had her dreams tampered with when he blurted, “I’m still the patron saint of plot twists.” 


	3. Once Upon A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The last chapter. 
> 
> I did something a little different here. Just because I had some loose ends to tie up AND I wanted to give y'all a little bit of sexy times at the end... 
> 
> I hope this is decent, it's my first time writing smut for this pairing, so I hope you enjoy it! :D 
> 
> I didn't want to have them necessarily "DO IT" because I feel like they probably need to talk a little bit more. Get to know each other a little bit more. But they're thirsty and fooling around happens. So here it is. Tying up loose ends and some smutty/sexy fooling around. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed. Because. YOLO. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

As Darcy found out later...well.  A tiny bit later.  Between kisses and certain articles of clothing being shucked...the dream was real. 

Kind of.

It was real in that both she and Steve were in it. 

The things they'd said...also real. 

The only thing fake was the location.  And the fact that they were there in their minds.  Physically, their bodies were still in their respective beds. 

Loki, in all his weird sub-creepiness, had grown tired of their constant near-miss flirting and had taken matters into his own...hands.  So to speak.  He’d constructed a dream world.  Complete with a dream palace and dream versions of their friends and teammates.  All to kind of nudge them in the direction of each other. 

Nudge…shove.  Same difference, right? 

And someone else might question Loki’s motives, but Darcy knew enough about him to know that Loki barely had motives.  He did what he wanted.  Which included cracky situations to play matchmaker, apparently.    

His methods were suspect, but all the choice had been left to them.  They could have eventually found their way out without becoming romantically involved. 

The portal between the dream palace Loki had constructed and the real world had and would have always been, the TV in the upstairs room. The one stuck into the fireplace.

The "wormholes" had simply been Loki's way of dealing with the confines of his dream palace. It was better than invisible walls.  Or so he insisted.  

And they weren’t ever trapped.  They could have explored the mansion, found their way upstairs and out of the weird dream in a few minutes if they'd wished.  Loki wasn't stopping them from escaping the dream.  And if morning came before they found their way out, he wouldn't have stopped them from waking up normally. 

But Loki had guessed, correctly as it turned out, that they both secretly wanted the alone time.  And wouldn't have minded the excuse for coming clean about their feelings for the other.

Which brought up the next little variable in this equation of the most epic hookup of all time: the feelings.  The feelings were valid and true.  The Steve and Darcy in the dream had indeed professed their true feelings for one another. Unprovoked and completely on their own.   So the kisses and touches and little grunts of pleasure they subsequently shared upon awakening...completely and utterly warranted.  And wanted.  And needed.   

All of this information was revealed in bits and pieces.  Between the passionate kisses before the clothes started coming off and whispered after.  Confirmed by a visit to the trickster god later on. Much later on.  They still had a party to go to that evening, after all.

* * *

 

_“I’m still the patron saint of plot twists…” he blurted when her door opened._

Oh, Steve was absolutely that. 

Bursting back into her life.  Or just…INTO it, Darcy guessed.  He hadn't been a big part of it before.  She didn’t really care about the semantics at this point.  She was just thanking Blob Almighty for magically induced lucid dreams.    

His lips against hers felt right.  Better than in the dream. Real Steve’s lips were firm and demanding, drawing kiss after lip-popping-kiss from her like he was gulping water from a glass. And judging by the way he was kissing her, Steve was a thirsty, thirsty man.

He closed the door behind him before pulling her close, flush against his body. She could feel the hard planes of him under the white cotton t-shirt.  The flannel pajama pants. 

His hands remained on her waist, but his thumbs roamed, pressing up against the undersides of her breasts as she clung to him, finally giving up the whole standing thing (it was overrated anyway) and jumping into his arms.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she almost couldn't think as he carried her over to the couch.

She kissed him like she'd always wanted to.  Tracing the tip of her tongue over his lips before sucking the bottom one between her teeth.  He grunted into her mouth when she nibbled gently before pulling back slightly and letting it slip between her teeth as he laid her back on the cushions.

"Darcy...we...we should take this slow...slower..." he whispered, the lilt in his voice made it sound almost half-hearted, like he wanted her to argue.  Like he was begging for her to tell him this was okay. 

But for once, the right thing and the thing Darcy wanted were one and the same.

_Mark this down as miracle number TWO this morning, Blob._

"You're right..." she mumbled, her lips brushing against his.  "You're right...we need to...we need to slow down...because…. BOUNDARIES.  And talking...and baseball...bases.  We need to hit all the bases..."

"Do you want me to stop?" His hands were on her waist, playing with the hem of her t-shirt.  She could feel the tremor in his hands, the same one that was going through her whole body.  The tremor that definitely DID NOT want to stop.    

But, she knew she should say yes.  They should go get dressed and meet for coffee.  Somewhere public where they wouldn't maul each other. 

But his hands were warm.  They felt so good on her bare skin.  She didn’t want to stop.  They could slow down.  But they didn’t need to stop, did they?

_Slow down...check.  Boundaries.  Yes.  Boundaries.  All fun-times come with boundaries, right?_

"We could...just...keep our pants on.  And hands...above the waist?" she offered with a shrug. 

His eyes left hers for a moment, scanning the length of her body quickly before he caught her gaze again.  "Okay.  That seems fair."       

And then Steve's hands were moving up her torso, thumbs skating over her rib cage, rucking up the t-shirt she had unfortunately chosen to sleep in the previous night.  She wasn't ashamed of her N'Sync concert t-shirt from the eighth grade per se...but if she was going to pick the first shirt Steve Rogers was going to rip off her, she'd pick something different.  Just saying. 

He didn't seem to mind though, pushing up the faded t-shirt and helping her tug it over her head.    

He gulped when he caught a view of the ladies. She watched his Adam’s Apple move up and down.  She couldn't really blame him.  They were gulp-worthy. The look in his eyes made her really regret mandating hands above the waist. 

Because...the way he was looking at her...made her want to do things to him.  Below the belt things.  Under the pants things. 

She gracelessly yanked on his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head so she could get a nice view of what was underneath.  What was always busting out of those tight t-shirts.  She took a ragged breath, letting her hands moved up from his waist to his shoulders, dipping into every muscular ridge and delighting in the goose bumps that rose as a result. 

He passed his fingertips over her skin, moving up from her waist, up the swell of her breasts and catching slightly on her nipple as he grazed her. 

She inhaled sharply, feeling it pebble and stiffen under his attention. 

He licked his lips and leaned over to kiss her, still teasing her with the same diligent attention. 

He pulled her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips as he continued to play with her breasts.  Those deft fingers that normally gripped a shield were now so delicately pleasuring her, that she couldn't help but grip his wrists and moan.

No, this wasn't fair.  Not fair at all. 

She let her head fall back, her hair brushing over her lower back. She gave herself over to the relentless drag of his thumbs over the stiff peaks.  She rolled her hips over his.  She could feel him, just under the layer of flannel.  Stiff and hot.  Heat just radiated from his skin. She gasped; the seam of her pajama pants pressing against her just so...

Darcy was pretty sure she could come like this.  Shake apart on top of him, from just the friction of her own pants and his hands on her breasts. The feel of him there, between her legs.  Steve Rogers, rutting against her like they were teenagers in the backseat of a car.  

"Steve..." she murmured. 

"Darcy...is this okay?" he mumbled against her throat. "Can you?" 

She nodded.  "I'm almost there…" 

"Okay..." 

She wondered vaguely if this was cheating.  Her pants were on.  And her hands were well above the belt.  But she could feel him...

Oh, but this felt like cheating.  It felt like it.  Like something she shouldn't have yet. 

That didn't stop her hips from moving, though. 

And if he thought the same...he hid it well.  Whispering against her throat.  Encouraging her to take what she needed from him.  That he wanted to watch her fall apart. 

So when she did, when the burning tightness in her gut released, when it washed over her in glorious fluttering waves of pleasure, she felt him shudder right along with her, felt him grind his hips up against hers, press his lips to hers to swallow her moans.  To feed her his own.  She kept rocking towards him, long after it ended, even though she was a little too sensitive.  Until he stopped her. 

His eyes were dark, dilated as he pulled her down for a kiss. 

She whimpered against his lips.  His hands cupped her breasts as he pressed long hot kisses to her mouth, his breath hitting her face in hot bursts from his nose. She knew she was going to have to move soon.  He’d need to go clean up.  At least.   

"Darcy..." he murmured.  "Darcy..." 

"Was that cheating?" she whispered.  “On our rules, I mean?” 

Steve shook his head.  "I don't care."   

And Darcy really didn’t either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos for the muses? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos? For the muses. ;)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com/)


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